


An Unexpected Alliance

by TwilightLegacy13



Series: Things Unforeseen [3]
Category: The Witchlands Series - Susan Dennard
Genre: Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, One Shot, Post-Betrayal, Taking place between chapters 39 and 40 of An Unexpected Introduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:16:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28802676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwilightLegacy13/pseuds/TwilightLegacy13
Summary: Before the Raider King's army arrives, the allies need to rest so as to be ready for battle.  When Lev and Arida end up keeping watch together, things don't go as planned.
Series: Things Unforeseen [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2068053
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	An Unexpected Alliance

**Author's Note:**

> This happens in between chapters 39 and 40 of my fic, An Unexpected Introduction. It does have spoilers for the chapters that come before it, so keep that in mind if you haven't read An Unexpected Introduction first!
> 
> Content warnings: Discussions of self-harm, self-destructive behavior, mentions of past serious injury, mentions of a near-death experience by fire, threats, language.

They were closing in on a confrontation with the raiders, whose army should be approaching in no more than a few days. If even a fraction of their calculations went according to plan, it would coincide with the arrival of the Marstoki army to join their side. The battle would be long and it wouldn’t be easy, but it would be a start in the right direction of ending this war for good and bringing the countries of the Witchlands together instead of further apart.

Well, how wonderful. All it had taken was nineteen years and countless lives being torn to pieces while the people in charge fought over stupid things and got away with it because they weren’t the ones hurting.

It was a dismal outlook in the middle of a situation that gave so many other people hope, and Lev knew it. At least she’d never tried to claim that she wasn’t bitter.

And really, why shouldn’t she be? Peace for the continent was all well and good, but what was left for her after it? Not an identity she could call her own—she was neither a Firewitch nor a Hell-Bard anymore. Not a home to go back to—the only family she had left in the Angelstatt was alone and barely getting by. Not something to do once this was over—her feeling of direction had died along with her oath of loyalty to the prince.

She had nothing to define herself with, nothing to tie herself to her old life, and nothing ahead of her to create a future. She had _nothing_.

The sun was setting, though, and Lev couldn’t keep wallowing in her resentment at the moment even though she wanted to. The issue of keeping watch had arisen, as a battle was so imminent now that it would be unwise to all sleep at the same time with no one to stay vigilant. It was standard procedure for a group of people on a mission, but unfortunately, the first volunteer was the person that Lev happened to trust least. And hate most, but that was irrelevant.

“You all must be tired from going back and forth to the raider camp,” Arida said sympathetically. It would’ve been nice for her to have had that kind of sympathy before she came up with a plan to fix a problem she’d started that got Lev stabbed. Or before she burned a house down and let Lev take the blame for it along with the consequences that Zander shared. Or, if she was really going to wish for miracles, before she got herself into the kind of trouble that she couldn’t escape without handing Caden over to the emperor. She hadn’t, though, and now apparently it was supposed to be enough that she felt bad for them being tired.

“I’ll take first watch,” Arida continued, with a small smile like they were supposed to thank her.

Lev probably could have stopped herself from laughing in derision, but it would’ve taken more restraint than the Wordwitch was worth. “You’re kidding. No way are we letting you keep watch alone while we all sleep.”

She sighed. “At some point you’ll need to start trusting me with the little things. Besides, what use will I be with this collar on?”

“I trust that general Safi just brought back more than I trust you,” Lev said, and she meant every word. “No one wants you to be here.”

“But I want to be here! I want to help you all.”

“Look at my face,” she muttered, being sure to make eye contact, “and tell me exactly what your help is worth.”

Arida didn’t answer, and it occurred to Lev that everyone else around them had stopped their own conversations and was staring at them both. She hadn’t thought they were being all that loud, but open hostility did tend to draw a crowd. Oh, well.

Kullen shook his head as if taken aback by the conversation the women had been having. “It’s just keeping watch. I can do it.”

“No, you won’t,” Merik said. “You only just got back from flying Safi to find Habim and Mathew. You should rest.”

“But I—”

“Will you _please_ let me help?” Arida interrupted. “It’s not like I can do anything to you when I’m just watching for threats, and I’m completely useless if you don’t let me do the small things right now.”

Iseult frowned. “Fine. I’ll take my turn after yours.”

Caden froze. “Are you serious? Do you have any idea what she’s done?”

“I do,” she told him, “but she does have a point. She’s weaponless and powerless, and though I don’t trust her any more than you do, I do not think she will try to kill us all in our sleep.”

If Iseult believed that, then she really did trust Arida more than Lev did, but she didn’t think she needed to say so in order to make it clear. Too late, though, because Safi was nodding along with her Threadsister and the Nubrevnans seemed inclined to agree.

The Hell-Bards were outnumbered in this decision. That much was clear, but it didn’t mean that they’d be stupid about this. “Fine. _Fine._ Good enough,” Lev added, mimicking what Caden tended to say when he was trying to calm himself down over a situation that couldn’t be changed. He often joked that she could take a lesson from his patience, but right now her friend’s patience was about the only thing keeping her from committing murder.

“Thank you.” Arida was smiling.

“But you’re not doing it by yourself,” she said flatly. “I’ll keep watch with you.”

The Wordwitch’s smile abruptly vanished, her eyes suddenly wide and apprehensive. “I—all right. Sure.”

“It wasn’t a question,” Lev assured her.

For all he had protested that he would keep watch for them, Kullen and the other Nubrevnans were already making themselves comfortable. Aeduan scanned the area as though looking for any immediate dangers before lowering to the ground as well, and most of the others followed his example. Arida went over to Leopold first, placing her hands on his shoulders as she whispered something to him. He managed a pained, tired smile and responded in an equally quiet voice. She slipped her hand behind his neck, kissing him on the cheek before rejoining Lev.

Even once darkness had truly fallen and most of their companions were asleep, Lev and Arida spent a short while in silence. A longer silence than was expected, considering how much the prince’s Threadsister loved to talk, but as soon as it was broken Lev missed it.

“I don’t think you understand just how sorry I am,” Arida said quietly.

“And I know you don’t understand how little I care.” All the apologies in the world wouldn’t give back what had been taken away from her and the people she loved. If Lev had destroyed Arida’s family home, handed her over to the Hell-Bards to get her magic severed away, been responsible for making Leopold a Hell-Bard as well, and then come up with a plan that led to Arida getting stabbed, she seriously doubted that the Wordwitch would be content with Lev saying sorry.

Arida pulled her knees up to her chest, staring out at the campsite. “Sometimes I wish I were like you.”

What the rutting hell-gates was that supposed to mean? “’S nothing to envy,” she muttered. “Not anymore.”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant that this world isn’t built to have a place for me in it. I think things would be different if you could understand what that felt like.”

“Is this some kind of joke?” Lev demanded. “I didn’t even have the option of choosing to be a heretic! Even if I’d walked right up to the examination and registered as a Firewitch, I’d still be killed or exiled ‘cause in case you didn’t know, it’s illegal to be a Firewitch in Cartorra! Every breath I’ve ever taken’s been tempting death itself because of something I was born with, so tell me exactly what my place is in this gods-damned world.”

Arida turned to face her, her lips pursed in thought. “You’re right. You do understand, but imagine if everywhere you went you were aflame with bewitched fire. If every single person who looked at you saw the one thing they’d hate you for, the thing you’d want to hide. If no one ever saw you because as soon as they saw your face, they decided they’d seen enough. Wouldn’t it make you hate the world a little? Wouldn’t it make you do stupid, terrible, desperate things?”

Her voice made it clear that this was an appeal. Forgiveness was out of the question and so was trust, so it had to be for nothing more than understanding. What she didn’t seem to understand was that Lev didn’t just understand how she felt—she _felt_ it too, and lived it every day.

If her last two questions were meant to be exaggerated, or rhetorical, she had failed. Hating the world and the way it worked was hardly unfamiliar to Lev, and years of nurturing that hatred and unfairness had led to a whole host of stupid decisions. Who could blame her, either? Twenty-three years of living had taught her that the people who didn’t despise her were just indifferent enough to not protect her from the ones that did. The only exceptions were her mother, who couldn’t protect her even though she wanted to, and Caden and Zander, who happened to be in the exact same situation as her.

They all dealt with that injustice differently, of course. Caden coped with studied patience and dedication to what he felt was right, Zander coped with gentleness and spreading kindness, and Lev…well, Lev coped with a lot of bravado and self-destruction.

It had been worse when she was still new to being a Hell-Bard. After so long of fighting to stay free and safe, the noose was a cruel joke, and throwing herself into danger a thousand times after was just her way of accepting that she’d always be a punchline. It was a matter of time until her luck ran out again, but at least it would be her fault, and she would get to be angry about it instead of hopeless. Blaming herself for being stupid enough to lose was better than grappling with the reality that sometimes people lost for no reason at all.

So before long her face didn’t really look like her own anymore, and she flung herself and her barely-healed scars in front of any risk she could find, and she spoke to people in authority like she had a hundred lives when she hardly even had one. If it killed her one day, she’d have a whole list of things to blame for it. If it didn’t, then hell-pits, she was indestructible and it didn’t matter anyway.

Lev considered this along with the questions that Arida had asked. She was a naturally blunt person, but honesty didn’t come natural to her when it was about the way she crossed the line between tempting fate and asking for it. It was a lot easier to deny, and when people were especially persistent, to brush off as normal or healthy.

Still, she found herself not having enough reasons to lie. Silence meant being alone with her thoughts, and telling the truth meant another way to remind the Wordwitch of how much damage she’d caused.

“You don’t know a thing about me,” Lev said softly. “Stupid, desperate things? I once got trapped in the work room of a burning tailor’s shop and walked out laughing. I know—”

“Laughing?” Arida asked sharply, her brow furrowed. “What were you laughing at? The person who locked you in?”

She blinked. “No one locked me in. Once the alarms went off, I stayed in the room too long trying to find the thing I needed, and the supports started to collapse so I couldn’t get out through the door.”

“So you as good as locked _yourself_ in,” Arida noted, an edge to her voice that Lev didn’t care to examine. “You’d heard the alarms, but you still stuck around long enough for escape to be nearly impossible.” The campsite around them was dark, but she was sitting close enough for it to be obvious when her eyes scanned Lev’s face and the unmistakable scars there. “Is that why you laughed? Are you so used to hurting yourself that it’s funny when you somehow make it?”

Shivers ran down Lev’s spine, and with them cold fury. It had taken far too long for her to get comfortable with opening up to even Zander and Caden, and she still had days where it was difficult to talk about her true feelings. What right did Arida have to be the one person who could see through her like glass?

She curled her fingers into a fist. “Does analyzing me make you feel better?”

“No, it doesn’t,” Arida said. “Because I think I’ve figured out why you think you’re so much more righteous than I am. I do terrible things to survive, and you do them because you think you have something to prove.”

Lev let out a sputtering laugh. “I—”

“There you go again,” she interrupted. “Laughing as the world burns with you in it because at least there won’t be anything left of it after. You know, I’ve hurt people, but you aren’t any better than me when you hurt people just because you can.”

Somewhere along the way, Arida had stopped overanalyzing that day in the tailor’s shop and started deliberately antagonizing her. She wasn’t sure exactly when that line had been crossed, but she knew she didn’t like it. “When have I ever hurt people just because I can?”

She hummed quietly. “You stayed in a burning building because you wanted something that was in it. You came up with a plan back in Praga that involved sacrificing yourself. You got stabbed and almost immediately after you were insisting you could walk.”

“So I’m reckless. Maybe a bit foolish. What’s the point?”

“The point is that I saw the way Caden and Zander panicked as Aeduan carried you back from the dungeons. I watched Safi cry when she thought you were dead, and believe me or don’t, but I cried too. I can only imagine what your friends did when they realized you were stuck in that burning shop. You hate the world, but not everyone in the world hates you, and you’re hurting them by always letting yourself suffer.”

Something in Lev snapped. “Thanks, Arida. Thanks for the advice I never asked for. I’ll know who come to if I ever need a rutting Aetherwitch healer—now stop trying to act like we’re friends.”

“Oh, we aren’t friends,” Arida said immediately. “But we could’ve been, once. Don’t you remember when we knew each other in the Angelstatt?”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Before you burned my house down and gave me and Zander away to the Hell-Bards, we could’ve been chums.”

Arida reached out to touch her wrist, which she yanked away. “If you could just listen?” she countered, frustration sharpening her words even as they were spoken quietly. “It was wrong of me to do it. It was unforgivable. I only did it because I knew that when you got caught—don’t look at me like that, it would’ve happened sooner rather than later—my aunt would get punished for it too, because she’s so friendly with your mother, and I couldn’t let that happen. She and Leopold are all I have.”

Lev couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried because of her emotions. Or at all, really, because her pain tolerance had become so high that the tears only came as a physical instinct when something was truly unbearable. But somehow, in spite of that, her throat suddenly stung and if Arida hadn’t been here—really, if she’d been alone entirely—she might have let herself start crying then, because pride was the only thing between her and asking what _she_ was supposed to have in all of this. Two friends who had become Thread-family, of course, but one of them had never really had a home worth missing and one of them had never had to fight for survival as well as freedom. They loved her, but they couldn’t understand what it was like to be her, to hold onto righteous anger with white-knuckled hands because it covered up her otherwise empty palms.

The only person who did seem to understand that was the person who had made her this way, and now sat calmly judging her for it. _She and Leopold are all I have._ As if Lev were supposed to pity her for that when she’d lost everything. She wanted to take everything, so maybe then Arida could be telling the truth when she claimed to feel the same way. Lev might have made a habit of pushing her capabilities to the limit, but even she knew she wouldn’t be able to get away with regicide, so she took the only other option.

“Speaking of the Angelstatt,” Lev murmured, the words catching in her throat a little, “I went there before we traveled south to Veñaza City.”

“You did?” Arida asked, looking startled at the change in subject. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t.” She ran her fingers down the hilt of the dagger she kept at her side. “You were a bit busy forcing Caden to work for you after you kidnapped him.”

A sigh. “What are you getting at? Why were you in the Angelstatt?”

Lev deliberately took longer than necessary before answering. “Not sure if you knew this, but I got stabbed in the Pragan dungeons. After you betrayed us, we were leaving and the stitches tore, so I had to get to a healer.”

“Oh!” Arida exclaimed, a bit too loud considering the fact that everyone else was asleep. “You must have seen my aunt. How is she?”

After all the passive-aggressive references to her injury, the Wordwitch had to be acting deliberately oblivious. Or, more likely, she simply didn’t care enough to acknowledge the consequences her actions had.

“Good enough.” She fiddled with the dagger some more. “Considering.”

Arida visibly tensed. “Considering what?”

“Well, my mother wanted to know what happened to me,” Lev began, selecting each word like she might pick a throwing knife. “’S not every day her daughter shows up dying.”

“I get it, Lev. What about my aunt?”

She was tempted to draw this out by chiding her about priorities, but it wouldn’t be worth delaying the first taste of vengeance she’d get to have. “So she may’ve been in the room when I explained everything to my mother.”

The Wordwitch’s posture straightened even more noticeably. “What did you explain to her?”

“Just that I got hurt while trying to free some political prisoners who’d been captured unfairly,” Lev said, looking her right in the eyes. “That we got ambushed by soldiers while trying to get away. That we weren’t working alone.”

“You didn’t,” she whispered furiously.

“And that the person who came up with our escape strategy ended up in league with the Raider King.” She smiled, feeling the way that the movement tugged at her scars. “And maybe that person’s name.”

Arida lunged at her. Lev honestly hadn’t been expecting it, and she fell backwards from the sudden attack before she could catch herself. Immediately, though, her hands came up to catch Arida’s before they could keep trying to hit her.

She was motivated by pure rage, but all the wrath in the world wouldn’t change the fact that Arida was simply not a good fighter. She put too much energy and too little direction into each strike, and it was easy for Lev to avoid the mismatched blows long enough to swing her leg over Arida’s hip and flip her onto her back. “Hush,” she muttered. “You’re gonna wake everyone up.”

“I don’t care,” Arida breathed, her eyes darkened in the moonlight. “I want nothing more than to fight the bitch who made my own family hate me.”

And just like that, Lev had her believing it. She hadn’t really told her mother and Treise that Arida was working with the Raider King—what with the rest of what was happening, and Caden being kidnapped, it hadn’t exactly come up. But now that Lev knew even more of what Arida had done, she wouldn’t hesitate to tell them both the truth when she returned to Praga. Then they really _would_ hate her.

In the meantime, there was no harm in stretching the truth.

“Oh, please.” Lev pulled out her dagger, just in case she did keep struggling. “You’re the only one who made that happen. And maybe you don’t care if you wake up the others, but what about Leopold? He was on the verge of passing out earlier. Don’t you want him to rest without wondering if I”—now she ran her fingers down the blade— “might harm his dear Threadsister?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but Lev shushed her again. “Don’t worry him over nothing,” she advised. “After all, he’s all you have left.”

Arida blinked once, then again. “Fine,” she spat, and her arms went limp as if to indicate that she was done fighting. “But I’m not forgetting this.”

“Wouldn’t want you to. You’d be missing the point.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She pushed to a sitting position, her gaze flicking across the clearing to where Leopold slept before focusing on Lev again. “I mean that you say I’m responsible for all of your problems, but I didn’t do this. I didn’t make you heartless.”

Heartless. Maybe that’s what she was after all.

But maybe that was for the best. Heartless people didn’t have to worry about crossing a line or going too far because they didn’t care.

“Then you’re damned unlucky that you stuck around.”

Arida’s mouth thinned, and she didn’t look away. “We _will_ settle this,” she said, and it sounded somewhere between a threat and a promise. “When the war is over.”

“Or when we’re both dead and we meet each other in hell,” Lev responded, and she certainly meant it as both. “Whichever comes first.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it!! Please leave kudos/comments to tell me what you think :D


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